Mike Lackey, R. L. Ryan, James Lorinz, Bill Chepil
[2] This movie has as much chance of
winning an Oscar as Salman Rushdie has of being given the Nobel
Peace Prize. The word "Trash" is very apt for this movie - it's the
cinematic equivalent of a Big Mac; the acting is non-descript, the
plot is more flimsy than the baggage inspection at Heathrow and the
FX are totally gross. I love it! The film is set in the gutters of a
USA inner city; scum & lowlife roam the streets and live on a liquid
lunch (bit like a Napalm Death gig). A local store-keeper finds a
case of liquor in his cellar, gives it a dust down and ships it out
at a dollar a throw. No harm in that you might think, the problem is
that the beer contains something very unpleasant (no, it's not
Hofmeister) which makes the consumer, well, MELT...
This is when the
fun starts, one poor chap melts into the toilet (must have had
Tandoori chicken), all that's left is his deformed head peering out
of the porcelain god. Add to this a deranged Vietnam vet, a stupid
cop (aren't they all?) and a sex mad scrap yard owner who likes to
indulge in a spot of necrophilia. The film does tend to drag it's
feet a bit in the midle, but it's still a great piece of sleaze -
the highlights have to be a chap getting his head and most of his
upper torso blown off and a game of 'piggy-in-the-middle' with a
poor individual's love truncheon... Why Barry Norman never included
this in his Top Films of '88 I'll never know!
